


eighty two

by Seito



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-08-30
Packaged: 2020-09-30 12:13:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20446976
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seito/pseuds/Seito
Summary: You're eighty two and you can't believe it.(or Ardyn delays his plans.)





	eighty two

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Birthday Noctis :D

You're eighty two. You're eighty two and you can't believe it. You've spent the last sixty one years _waiting_ and the other shoe hasn't dropped.

Luna waits with you, a thread of nervousness that grows a tiny bit stronger with each passing year. Gentiana just shakes her head and presses her lips together, only silence, not advice falls from her lips.

You're eighty two and have been blessed. Your second grandchild is on the way (a girl you hope, a promise to a mother you never met). Your son (born too early, a rush to secure a heir) is strong and proud. He has been ruling since you stepped down nearly a year ago.

Lucis and Tenebrae stand strong. The kingdom flourish and there is peace. They herald you as a golden king. No more war with Nilfheim who had strangely gone silent over the years.

They thought you were too headstrong, not ready (never ready.)

("Man, Noct, what lit a fire under your butt? What happened to my lazy best friend who slept the whole day away? It's a bad omen that you're rising before Iggy, you know.") How could you sleep away your borrowed time?

("I appreciate your new eagerness for training, but slow down, Noct. You'll get better with time.") He wasn't strong enough. Not if destiny came knocking today.

("You can't just rely on my advice only, Noct. You must come to a decision yourself." "I trust your decision, Specs.") All the little things in hindsight--like why Ignis' training was on par with yours-- made so much sense.

You lived. You breathed. You wait. And wait. And wait.

And wait more.

Sometimes you remember to _live_. Your son, watching him grow, that helped. The small things, sitting with your father on a rainy afternoon, a spar with Cor, dumb video games with Prompto even at your forties. Slowing down with the feeling of Gladio at your back, like the Shield he is. The careful way Ignis organizes papers. Luna's smile in the morning.

Sometimes you can forget the sword that is supposed to be hanging over your head.

You're eighty two and the prophecy has still yet to come to pass.

Daemons are still an issue. Starscourge still plagues the land.

But no eternal night like the Oracle line spoke of.

The weapons of your ancestors rest in your soul, heavy and sharp and growing duller with each year. The Crystal gleams, its light bright but cold. The ring no longer sits on your hand, passed to your son.

Waiting. More waiting. Each year a little more fearful.

What kind of Chosen King is too _old_ to fight?

What if your father was wrong and it isn't you?

What if it's your son? Your grandson?

"Noctis, dear," Luna mumbles.

You're eighty two. Your hair has gone white, there are more wrinkles than scars. Luna remains beautiful, even now but neither of you are vain enough to deny the tempering of time.

Ignis, clever and bright, picks it up first. (Picked it up years ago). "Noct what is wrong?"

How can you tell him you were suppose to die for Eos?

(How can you tell him it didn't happen?)

You're eighty three.

And there is a man, hair red and eyes gleaming a daemon yellow, standing before you, bowing low. "I welcome the Chosen King."

His smile is both cruel and kind.

"I hope you had a nice life. I'm here to claim what I am due."

**Author's Note:**

> *muses* The cruelty (usually) is that Noctis' life was cut tragically short. But is waiting a kinder option? 
> 
> Please leave a review on your way out.


End file.
